shining like the stars (and screaming)
by cyclothimic
Summary: "Who the hell are you?" Claire asked not-so-nicely after getting over her curiosity. / Owen smirked, offering her his badge. "Owen Grady, operations manager." (clawen week day 3: au)


**submission for clawen week day 3**

* * *

 _I know I'm acting a bit crazy_

 _Strung out, a little bit hazy_

 _Hand over heart, I'm praying_

 _That I'm gonna make it out alive_

 _-The Heart Wants What It Wants, Selena Gomez_

* * *

He watched from the side lines, arms crossed over his chest. He couldn't figure out why a woman, small and seemingly fragile, who didn't seem to be interested in training a Tyrannosaurus Rex at all would say yes to this proposition. This was the first time he'd seen her face and as he looked at her, the more he couldn't understand.

Claire Dearing seemed like a smart person – way too smart – and composed and all too careful. Admittedly, he was flabbergasted when he saw her from the other side of the window. He expected a butch, strong woman to be present but instead, he was confronted with this.

They'd plucked her out from a Minnesota veterinarian center. He didn't know why in the name of god Masrani would do that but well, he was the boss so Owen could only sign the pay check for the woman.

The woman, with her red hair tied up in a ponytail, was watching the egg Dr. Wu had concocted with impassive attention. The scientists, geneticists and whatever the hell those people called themselves were watching with her, but they were standing with a certain distance from the egg, as if they were afraid that a baby T-Rex could bite their heads off.

Well, if there was one thing he knew about Claire Dearing for now, it was that she had guts.

Not one minute later, the egg started wobbling on the stand. Claire's head craned forward a fraction, a movement barely noticeable. She lifted a crooked forefinger to her lip as her focus didn't waver from the egg. Then the shell began to crack, with little pieces gradually falling off. She hastily pulled on the gloves she'd carelessly shoved into her pocket when Dr. Wu handed them to her twenty minutes ago. Eventually, they could see a hand, desperately stretching out to reach the new world.

Owen would be lying if he said he wasn't in awe, because _damn_ , this wasn't a sight to be witnessed in daily life.

The entire laboratory hushed and his eyes flickered between Claire and the egg, wanting to see both of them. He refused to allow work unrelated thoughts entering his head, like how this woman might as well be one of the most beautiful women he'd ever met and he would really love to get to know her.

As soon as the T-Rex's head emerged, the woman stooped forward, making it look like she was paying the creature respect. His mouth inadvertently dropped. For the first time since he came into the room and saw her, she smiled.

And Christ, he swore his breath stopped.

She extended a hand fearlessly as she cooed the little thing – _asset_ – welcoming it into the world with her motherly warmth, though he doubted she had children. She lifted the T-Rex, only a tiny thing that just fit into her palms, and smiled at it. He hastily turned on the intercom, getting the feeling that he would want to hear whatever she was going to say to the asset.

" _Good morning, Scout_."

* * *

"You know, as the operations manager of Jurassic World, one would you'd dress better," Lowery commented as soon as he walked out of the elevator with a bottle of beer in his hand. "Do you have another one of those?"

"No drinking on the job," he answered easily, eyes focused on the big screen in front of them. He was used to Lowery's outfit comments – not that he cared. It was practical to wear a shirt with pockets and a leather vest and a pair of straight cut jeans when one was running a fucking theme park in which one had to walk around to check out the sights. So yeah, sue him.

"Seriously?" Lowery muttered, staring pointedly at the bottle in _his_ hand.

"What's the body count today?" he asked.

Lowery sighed as Vivian chuckled from her counter. Vivian took over and rattled off the numbers and statuses of the paddocks. She readily answered the client satisfaction ratings – because Masrani was an idiot – when he asked for it.

Owen nodded, lifting the lip of the bottle to his lips and taking a huge gulp. "Call me if there's anything," he said. And then he turned to Lowery who was still staring at his beer jealously. "All you do all day is sit here and watch those numbers and call me when there's a problem. I, on the other hand, have to drive around the park and personally check on the assets and the paddocks and _solve_ those problems you call me about. So yeah, I get to drink on the job."

He mock saluted the man before walking away.

"You need to remember that they're actual animals!" Lowery shot before Owen made it into the elevator.

* * *

It probably wasn't healthy to _still_ be thinking about a woman he hadn't seen for two months since the last time he snooped on her. But sue him, he was. To be honest, he found himself thinking about her almost every day, even for just a second: wondering how'd the T-Rex do with her, or if she'd eaten, or if she's enjoying her job here.

Owen had attempted searches on her on the Internet before, but even the know-it-all Google couldn't give him anything more than her graduating Cornell University at the top of her class and her being plucked out of a veterinary center that she'd been working in for barely a month by Simon Masrani. All of those things, he knew about.

He was never the kind of guy to get hung up over a girl. Sure, he'd had his rounds during high school and college but he couldn't remember the last time he was in a serious relationship. He studied business administration _and_ management and marketing in college. He could hardly believe his luck when he received an email from the Masrani Global Corporation that they would like him to do a test period of two months in running their park.

Suffice to say that Owen Grady had managed to uplift the park great to glorious, which was why Masrani sent him another email asking him to stay and that he would increase the zeros on his paycheck.

Surprisingly, he'd never come to encounter her each time he made his rounds around the park. She was always somewhere else when he was there. They were just never at the same place. And he guessed that was how things were always going to be between them. The guy above probably wanted him to know that they weren't meant to ever meet.

But fuck, he wanted to try his luck one more time.

He reached Paddock Nine and got out of the car. Security was just about to block him from entering when he flashed his badge, announcing his more than credible status for entry. They drew back and opened the doors for him. He nodded at them in thanks before walking in, finding his way to the viewers' booth in the maze of offices and mini museums.

The paddock was still closed for now because the T-Rex hadn't been fully grown yet so there weren't any visitors at this point of time. He finally came to his destination and found it empty. He put his hands to his hips and gave a sigh, knowing it would come to this. He didn't even bother asking the guard and just turned around, ready to leave.

"Are you kidding me?" He heard a harsh whisper from one of the mini museums. He frowned, approaching it to listen closer. "There is _no way_ I will let you take Scout's blood just so you can come up with another crazier and bigger one. Scout's not even adult yet!"

Huh? Owen looked in to see Claire glaring at the InGen security operations head, Vic Hoskins. He grimaced, remembering how he never liked the guy. "Well, you don't have a choice. Masrani already gave a memo to Dr. Wu to do the deed. I've even got the papers. So you better back off or I'll call security."

"This is _my_ rex!"

Hoskins chuckled darkly, shaking his head amusedly. "There's not a thing in this park that belongs to you, Miss Dearing, except for your stupid little bungalow."

"Is there a problem?" Owen announced himself before things could get worse. They looked to him, Hoskins in surprise and Claire in curiosity. He walked into the room, joining them. "What's this?" He looked from Hoskins to Claire, imploring them to speak.

"Who the hell are you?" Claire asked not-so-nicely after getting over her curiosity.

Owen smirked, offering her his badge. "Owen Grady, operations manager."

"Redhead here wouldn't cooperate with my team of scientists to take some of the T-Rex's blood," Hoskins said.

"It's _wrong_."

"It's what we do all the time."

"Where's the authorization letter?" Owen asked, staring at Hoskins.

In an instance, Hoskins thrust out a piece of paper to him. Owen read the words and sighed when he recognized his employer's signature at the bottom. "You need to let them do it, Miss Dearing."

"Wh –"

"You don't wanna lose your job, do you?" Owen said in a non-threatening manner. He tried not to let himself drown in her blue eyes as he let her identify the sincerity in hers. "I promise you, I will assess this project and make sure nothing gets out of hands. Is that good enough for you?"

" _Fine_ ," she snapped after a moment. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to deal with _savages_ from hurting my rex!"

* * *

"You treat it like it's your kid."

Claire shot a look at him. Displeased and annoyed. Well, he couldn't blame her after what had just occurred. Still, he finally had a chance to talk to her, he wouldn't want to miss out on it.

"What's it with you?" he boldly charged.

She clicked the clicker as a form of praise when the T-Rex did as she asked and he watched as she threw a rat carcass at the creature. When Claire just moved further away, whistling and saying commands to the asset, he realized she wasn't going to respond.

"You know you're gonna have to talk to me someday, right? I _am_ the park operations manager."

She clicked several more times, shouting words of appraisal at the dinosaur as she lifted a fist, making eye contact with the T-Rex. And then she swooped her hand down wordlessly, which was apparently permission for it to gallop away because that was what it just did. She then turned to him with an annoyed look.

"It is a he. His name is Scout. You'd do well to remember that since you're running this paddock," she rattled off before grabbing the bucket full of rat carcasses and walking away. "Why are you here, Mr. Grady?"

He hurried after her, matching her pace easily. "I want to see the progress of the asset and see if it's suitable for the paddock to be open for visitors," he lied smoothly. He'd thought that up before he left his office for Paddock 9.

She scoffed, descending the stairs two steps at a time. "It's only been two months, Mr. Grady. And he's not just an _asset_." One would have thought she was fed bitter gourd by the way she said it. "He's a wild beast and he's alive and he's curious about this world. He's dangerous enough as it is. I need at least six more months alone with him to give you any confirmation on the visitors."

"I am very aware that he's alive. Why do you think I'm here?"

They'd reached the bottom of the stairs and she entered the cage, locking the barricade behind her, blocking his entrance. He scoffed, finding this hard to believe. He leaned against the barricade, watching as she hung the bucket and washed her hands with the hose.

"You're here because you want to make profits as soon as you can. And I'm telling you that you need to be patient. Besides, you have other 'assets' around –" she air quoted "- I'm pretty sure they can make a lot of profits too."

"Miss Dearing –"

"What else do you want, Mr. Grady?"

He licked his lips, staring at her through the barricade. She wasn't the least bit afraid or intimidated by the fact that he had the authority to fire her at any given time. She just stood there, in her jeans and her polo shirt and her hair tied into a ponytail, looking at him with her arms crossed.

"Dinner."

She frowned. "What?"

"I'm inviting you to dinner, Miss Dearing. With me," he added.

She blinked. "Like…like a date?" she stuttered.

He smirked, nodding. "Sure."

She shook her head slightly, blinking at him more. And then she scoffed disbelievingly. "You're serious?"

"Yes."

She licked her lips, a look of full contemplation present on her face. And then she shrugged, throwing her hands in the air. "Fine."

He smiled triumphantly, pushing away from the barricade and standing upright. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7."

She sighed, feigning helplessness. "See you tomorrow."

They stood there for a moment with a barricade blocking them from each other. But Owen can see that this was going to be interesting. His smile widened and he waved at her before heading back to his car, whistling.

* * *

 **this is my first time writing a clawen fic. what do you think?**


End file.
